168: Sikandar (Patreon)

“Any injuries?” Cirayus asked, gliding down next to Vir. “My healing tattoos only function for myself, but your crimson-haired friend gave me a couple of Life orbs after she learned I can use magic. Good catch, that one. Be sure you don’t let her slip away. Hard to find people with mettle like her these days.”

“Oh believe me, I don’t intend to,” Vir said wistfully, his chest growing warm at the thought of Maiya.

“Aye. The demons won’t take well to a human Clanlady concubine, but I suppose that just means you’ll have to cow them into submission with your world-ending strength.“

“Very funny,“ Vir replied. The warmth had turned into full-blown heat. Clanlady? C-concubine!?

Vir coughed, gesturing to the corpses littering the ash. “Cirayus, I think I know what these things are. They aren’t Ash Beasts. Or at least, they didn’t use to be. They’re from the Human Realm. Cultists who call themselves the Children of Ash.”

“That right? Never heard of such a—well, now, isn’t that interesting?” Cirayus asked, kneeling to examine the symbol embroidered into their robes. The core of the symbol of the Akh Nara. “This is too similar to be coincidence. It’s identical to the one on your chest.”

“I know. They hate the primordial and they worship a Prana Swarm. Apparently, it’s deep inside the Ash somewhere.”

“They sound like lunatics.”

“They most definitely are,” Vir replied, recalling his encounter with the cultist at Brij. Lunatic was, in fact, the perfect word to describe them.

“How curious, though, that they would know of the Akh Nara. According to records, none of your prior incarnations ever ventured into the Human Realm. What could this mean, I wonder?”

“Really? They went into the Ash, but never to the Human Realm?”

Vir had thought that one of his ancestors had entered the Human realm, where he’d had an altercation with the Children which spawned their hatred.

“It may simply be that those records have been lost,” Cirayus said, stroking his long bears. “Or…”

“Or something else is going on here,” Vir finished.

“Aye, though speculating won’t get us anywhere for now. Tell me lad, these Children of Ash venture here, do they?”

“Think so. They worship the Ash, after all. I wouldn’t be surprised if their crazier members tried coming here at some point.”

Looking down at a deformed corpse, Vir suppressed a twang of panic. If Maiya had joined me…

This may very well have been her fate, doomed to walk the Ash forever. Death might’ve been less cruel. Images flickered through his mind. Maiya’s body twisted into a hideous form as she screamed in pain, her sanity burned away…

Thank the Gods she had the good sense not to follow.

By the time he’d recovered, Cirayus had already left, venturing into the maw of the enormous cavern that jutted from the otherwise featureless landscape. The skeletal remains of the great beast that had once called it home peeked out, though most of it had been buried by the ash.

“Seems it’s been a while since this guy died,” Cirayus commented, touching a pale rib bone that extended nearly ten paces into the air and formed an arched skeletal shelter.

“What was it?”

“All I can tell you is it was enormous. Many beasts in the Ash have never been documented, nor even witnessed by sentient eyes. It looked like a nasty fellow, though it seemed to sleep most of the time. Your retainers and I, we snuck in here while it slumbered and got out before we woke the thing.”

“If you had to fight, who’d have won?”

“Lad, I don’t doubt we’d all have died gruesome deaths. As you saw with that wyrm, many creatures in his realm far outstrip my strength. Tis one reason I find the humans’ power scale so absurd. If they knew—if they really knew of the horrors that lurked in this realm, you wouldn’t find nearly as many mejai strutting around, boasting about their arbitrary power numbers or titles. True strength is immeasurable. Real power is the ability to make your prey wither and flee by your mere presence alone.”

Vir had to admit, Cirayus had a point. Balar 1000, Mejai of Realms—even the Prime Mejai himself—what were they against a nightmare that was literally invincible, and could eradicate entire cities in minutes? It was easy to pretend they didn’t exist, crafting power scales that made humans look strong.

The reality was Balar 40,000 beasts did exist, and they didn’t care what titles or Balar Rankings their prey held. As Cirayus had said, they were closer to forces of nature. Something to survive, not ever anything to triumph against.

Cirayus had also said Vir might eventually become exactly that. Were he anyone else, he might’ve believed the giant, allowing his ego to bloat. But he knew well that the path to power was never so simple. If he wanted even a copper’s chance of getting there, he’d have to make sacrifices. Great sacrifices. The question was, how far was he willing to go?

“The ash has piled up far higher than anticipated,” Cirayus grumbled, entering the cavern and digging at the ash on his knees. The task had turned his hands and arms pure black, coated with soot. “Never planned on staying so long in the Human Realm.”

While the cavern shielded against the perpetual ash falls, much had blown in from the entrance over time. There was no escape from the ash in this realm; it got into everything, sooner or later.

“What was the plan?” Vir asked, taking a seat beside his godfather as he worked. “Did you intend to return to the Demon Realm once the war was over?”

“After a time. I’d intended to escape to the Human Realm in secret, then raise you here in the Ash, when you were ready. We’d have remained here as long as needed before returning. If things had gone according to plan, no demon would ever hold sway over you. Alas, we were discovered upon entering human lands. Discovered and pursued. To keep you safe, I played the part of decoy.”

“You handed me over to Rudvik and allowed yourself to be captured. That must’ve been hard.“

“Aye, it was. You were everything, to me. To trust you with a random stranger… I had little choice, and many regrets.“

“Well, you could’ve done worse. A lot worse. Rudvik was all I could’ve ever asked for in a father.“

Cirayus stopped digging for a moment. “If I hadn’t handed you to him… But nay. Your worth is incomparable. I’d have burned an entire village down if it meant keeping you safe. I, and all your other retainers.“

There it was again. That weight. Like a soul-crushing mountain that rested atop his back.

“They gave their lives. All to hide me.”

“Aye. It was the honor of their lifetime. Though, while our actions kept you safe, I’m afraid you were forced to grow up knowing nothing of who you truly are. I can only imagine the hardships you faced in the human lands.”

Vir looked around the wasteland and considered Cirayus’ words. What kind of person would he have become, knowing only this barren hellscape, fighting day in, day out?

True, he’d have avoided most of the painful experiences he’d endured, and there certainly were many of those. Vir thought back to Brij. The bullying, the abject poverty, the winters he’d struggled through on an empty stomach. It certainly hadn’t been an easy life. He’d have faced none of those issues had Cirayus reared him here.

But there were good times as well. Rudvik. Their forays together into the Godshollow. Apramor, his temple, and his tales of the gods. Aliscia’s writing lessons. Maiya. Had Cirayus raised Vir, he’d never even have met her. That alone horrified him.

It didn’t end there—he’d never have witnessed Daha’s poverty, nor Rani’s gorgeous waterways, or learned the truth of the Pagan Order. He wouldn’t have witnessed the Undercity, or learned of their curious non-magical lighting.

Nor would he have known the joys of traveling with and fighting in a party, and while he’d parted on unpleasant terms with Spear’s Edge, there were plenty of good memories there, too.

Memories he cherished dearly.

He understood now that all these experiences had helped him grow. Not necessarily in combat power, but as a person. Yes, he might be a demigod by now had Cirayus tutored him, but he’d also be a child, untempered and oblivious to the true workings of the world. A person lacking in real world experience. It was the hardships, the letdowns, the betrayals, and the failures that had forged him into who he was today.

If Vir was ever to answer Cirayus’ hope and help the Gargans, they would need a leader. Not a man-child monster who knew only combat.

Of course, it’s not like I’m there yet… As far he’d come, Vir fully understood he had a long way to go. One look at Maiya made that obvious. Her leadership skills far outstripped his own, and she knew more of the world, too.

“I think it’ll work out,” Vir said at last. “I might not be as strong as you wanted, but I’m here now.”

“Aye, that you are,” Cirayus replied, continuing to dig. Only his upper body remained above ground now, having dug several paces down already. Once again, Balancer of Scales aided his efforts, and ash flew in all directions as he worked.

I want power, he thought. So I can protect those I care about.

He couldn’t say whether he’d ever accept his role as a demonic prince, but for now, he could at least tone his body and temper his mind, and go into the Demon Realm with open eyes. From there, he’d let the winds of fate guide him.

Clang!

Cirayus had hit something solid. “Lad, mind giving me a hand?”

“Don’t you have four?”

The giant chuckled. “Aye, but if four is better than two, six is always welcomed. Think we’ve got it.”

Vir had been wondering when the giant would ask. He removed his armor and rolled up his sleeves to keep them from getting dirty, then jumped into the pit Cirayus had dug.

“It’s a sword, right?”

“Aye, wrapped in cloth, along with a small bag. You dig on that side. I’ll work on this end.”

Vir wondered why they needed two people to dig out a sword—there was already a good bit of it uncovered. A bit more and Cirayus would’ve been able to pull it out on his own—but Vir didn’t complain.

Methodically, he scooped ash out one handful at a time. Owing to how deep it was buried, Vir ended up moving far more than he’d initially expected. When he thought he’d reached the end of the cloth-covered blade, it kept going.

Ah, right. Oversized, of course.

Except, the more he dug, the more of the blade he uncovered. Even after Cirayus announced he’d retrieved the satchel and had unearthed the hilt, Vir hadn’t found the blade’s edge.

No way. This can’t be real, can it?

It was only ten minutes later that he finally found it.

Climbing back to the opening of the ditch they’d dug, he took in the blade in its entirety.

You have got to be kidding me.

Cirayus gripped its hilt and lifted effortlessly, unraveling the cloth ribbon in one smooth motion.

Brilliant seric glinted as he hefted the blade.

A blade that was half again as long as Cirayus was tall. A four-handed, curved mega-talwar, the likes of which Vir had never even imagined possible.

End to end, it was easily three times Vir’s height. Its weight… Vir didn’t even want to think about it. It’d take five men to lift the dang thing.

“Oh, Sikandar! How I have missed you, my friend!” Cirayus shouted, swinging the blade as easily as Vir would a katar.

The sheer force of that casual swing blew away the ash that covered the floor, creating a miniature maelstrom within the cavern that forced Vir to shield his eyes.

“I mentioned some call me The Ravager. I earned that title only after I forged Sikandar some centuries ago. This is why. Oh, you may wish to plug your ears, lad. Or you may well go deaf.”

Cirayus grabbed the enormous hilt with all four hands, braced himself, and swung.

The gargantuan sword blurred out of sight, smashing into the cavern wall an instant later.

Vir barely plugged his ears in time. Even then, the crash of seric on stone reverberated in his chest, and the ensuing shockwave bowled him over, sending him tumbling end over end.

Coughing and sputtering, Vir righted himself, disoriented at the strange lighting.

Wait… light?

There was no sun in the Ashen Realm, and yet the surroundings had become much brighter.

“What did you—!?” Vir’s words choked in his throat, and it wasn’t on account of the ash.

The cavern was gone. Cleaved off by Sikandar.

Vir stumbled back and fell on his butt.

“Grakking chal!”